Containers for plants…they seem to be everywhere. From the big box stores to grocery stores, you see them with their Made in Mexico or Made in China labels at prices that are unbelievably cheap. I am guilty of buying those pieces, but this year I turned my focus to making a series of self-watering containers for plants that are a cut above the mass-produced imports.

This particular piece came about from a challenge on a Potter’s Council online forum. The spring season in Tennessee is a time when we experience outbreaks of storms and tornadoes, so my Spring-themed container for a plant pays homage to those destructive events with a hat tip to a famous scene from the Wizard of Oz.

Now that I have opened this can of worms, I have to decide if it is worth it to make more of these things. The nature of the design takes it out of the realm of mass production and the detail takes so much time that it will be difficult to recover the investment in time and energy. My wife has declared this a collector’s item (hers) and has already pointed to the plant that she wants to see growing in this container. I am OK with that idea…I had already experienced nightmares on what it would take to ship this thing with protruding legs as far as Kansas…or across the street for that matter.

I do like the idea of narrative pots. It seems a shame that the humble container for dirt and plants doesn’t seem to be worthy of artistic respect. Perhaps an new class of container classification would boost the reputation of the narrative pot…something like Conteneur de Fleur – Fantaisie could bump the price tag up to something respectable. So, before this post sounds too much like whining, I did have fun making this piece and that enjoyment has a great deal of value to me. Now, I have to work on getting that “Ding dong, the wicked witch is dead…” music out of my head. I am definitely NOT in Kansas, Dorothy!

F3 – The Wicked Witch is Dead 18″ tall stoneware container for plants with self-watering features. Principal container is wheel-thrown in three separate pieces then assembled with hand-built house parts and stocking legs. Underglaze was applied to the stockings and shoes then the entire piece was sprayed with multiple, blended Cone 10 glazes. Final firing was reduction, Cone 10 in a Bailey gas kiln.

In the many hours of lab work that go along with getting a degree in architecture also came a bombardment of idiom-axioms that apply to the design process. Many are attributed to famous architects. Other idiom-axioms, I think, were just annoying things that my instructor would say for lack of something original in the way of a critique. You may have heard, “Less is more” and “Form follows function”…those still rattle around in the back of my head. I’m OK with those iconic-architectural skeletons. Those quotes take on different shades of meaning when applied to clay art rather than architecture.

When working on a personal assignment this semester, another old idiom/axiom floated to the surface: “Good is the enemy of the best”. This generally speaks to process more than it speaks to results in terms of design. That first sketch of a project might contain glimmers of brilliance (good), but additional development with an eye toward uniqueness often leads to “better” and “best”. I have experienced this on many levels in my years on a personal level as well as a collective/collaborative level. In a Google world, it is humbling to sketch up something that appears to be world-shattering-unique, only to discover that another individual has already done something similar and posted it online. But that is where the Good-Best uncomfortable dichotomy comes into play. Yes, I look at those sketches or the results of other artists and ask, “Is there another level above this? Is there a best that would be the enemy of these (good) results? Is there a twist, parody, derivative that will take me there?”

There are many questions that I ask myself when reflecting on sketches that have been set aside to mature or mellow. What once looked like a great idea becomes something better simply because of the original glimmer of good. So, enemy might be harsh, considering that good isn’t all that bad. But when it comes to striving toward best, a shot of reality harshness, be that from a humbling Google search, a mellowed sketch, or constructive criticism may be what it takes to be unsatisfied with good.

What may be the most difficult lesson to learn is that the trash can is your friend when good sketches push you toward best designs.